Monday, May 12, 2014

A Walk Among Friends

The air was stale and carried an unusual stench. The kind of scent that makes you think of bleach or drain cleaner. It was a foreign scent to me, but seeing as Tom and I hadn't gone for a walk in this part of town for so long, I chocked it up to unfamiliarity. I strode through some overgrown vegetation covering the pathway into the abandoned warehouse. I looked down at the freshly minted green stain on my old jeans. It was nice to be out and about like this again. Usually Tom would have met up with me by now, though I didn't mind enjoying the peace and quiet by myself. After about ten minutes of traversing the foliage and old broken brick that lay about, I stood out front of the warehouse. The stench was stronger here, so much so that it stung the senses. It was unusual for Tom to be late, more often he was early and I was the one dragging my feet. I reached into my pocket and retrieved my phone. If he was still a fair distance away I would suggest he meet me elsewhere. The air here just wasn't fit to breathe while discussing life. As I sifted through the contacts list on my phone I heard the distinct sound of glass breaking from inside the building. I shrugged off the sound and called Tom. Much to my surprise I heard a phone ringing inside the warehouse. I waited for an answer but when he didn't pick up I began to get inquisitive. Making sure to tread carefully for fear of cutting myself on broken glass, I climbed through a front window and glanced about at my surroundings. The warehouse was much different now than it had been years back. There were large wooden crates around and what appeared to be laboratory equipment perched all throughout. It was unsettling upon the eyes. It took my brain time to catch up with my eyes. The reviling scent, the lab equipment, the boxes; they indicated one thing above all, illegal activity. I searched around for Tom, taking great care to move as silently as I could. As I navigated my way through the makeshift aisles and dark corners of the warehouse I heard a loud crack come from beneath me. I froze. My every instinct told me to crouch low and hide, but instead I stood as still as a statue. My hands were numb and tingling; the hair on my arms stood vertical. I looked down and saw a piece of glass underneath my shoe. "Hello? Is someone there? Can you help me?" I heard a panicked voice say from the other side of the boxes. That was Tom's voice. It was slurred and slightly less coherent than normal, but it was unmistakably my friend. I slunk my way around the boxes to see him tied to a chair. His face was swollen and he had blood streaming from cuts too numerable to count. Taking in my surroundings I noticed a line of shelves behind where my friend was trussed up. Upon them I noticed a shotgun and a small flip knife. I crouched low and shifted over to the shelves, first taking up the knife and then the gun. I crouch-walked my way behind Tom and began sawing at the thick ropes with the knife, all the while making shush noises to quiet my beleaguered friend. After what seemed like an interminable time the rope finally gave way and Tom's hands were unbound. I handed him the gun, pressed my index finger to my lip, and motioned for him to follow me. I figured the best way out would probably be the way I took to get in. I hadn't run into anyone else so I hedged my bets that we might be just as lucky on the escape. As we reached my infamous glass footrest I leaned closely into earshot of Tom. "How many people are here?" I whispered as softly as I possibly could muster. He didn't say anything, but instead held up his pinkie, ring, and middle fingers. So, there were three that he knew of. Maybe more that he didn't. The last thing I wanted was to run into some tweaked out drug dealers. Being this close to Tom's face I noticed with more clarity the seriousness of his injuries. It looked as though his jaw was dislocated and one of his eyes was nearly swollen over. I motioned for us to continue on and so inch by terrible inch we moved closer to my point of entry. As we crept through the warehouse periodically we heard voices. None of the voices were close enough to make sense of conversation, but whenever we heard them Tom and I stopped moving and listened for signs of commotion. I needed to know if his escape had been discovered. Eventually, after what seemed like hours we made it back to the window I entered through. "Alright buddy, you go first. I'm right behind you." I whispered. He climbed out the window quietly, albeit a little clumsily. I cleared the window just after him and made the executive decision for us to start running. We sped through the plant life and down the overgrown pathway. Vegetation whipping at our skin as we sprinted our way to freedom. We rounded a corner and came face to face with another man. He was a tall and slender fellow with a large nose. He panicked as he saw us and scrambled for the pistol waiting at his hip. As Tom brought the shotgun up to bear, time seemed to freeze at that moment. It felt as though I could look around and study the scene for hours before anything transpired. The whole world felt like a game on pause; like everything was ready to resume whenever I wanted. I watched as the man brought his pistol up and leveled it at my friend's head. A loud boom erupted in my ears. I watched as blood and bone and brain matter blew passed me. The world was no longer on pause. Nothing was frozen anymore. I charged into the man, knocking him to the ground. I reached out for anything I could grab and came away with a fist sized rock. I brought it down over and over upon the tall man's face. I struck him until my arm was weary with fatigue. I looked down at him and let the stone fall from my grasp. My hands were covered in blood. Next to the stone lay the pistol. I reached out and picked it up. It felt heavy in my hand. I pushed myself to my feet and looked down at the man I had beaten with the rock. His body jerked unexpectedly and I squeezed the trigger on the gun, discharging a round into the dirt next to his shoulder. The sound of the gun threw me back into realization of the situation I was in. I turned around quickly and looked at Tom. He was barely recognizable after his injury. I picked him up and slung his lean frame over my shoulder. I held the shotgun by the barrel in one hand and the pistol rested in my pocket. I held onto the legs of Tom as I trudged through the overgrowth and headed towards assistance. "Don't worry buddy. Everything is going to be okay. I'm going to get you some help. Fix you right up." I don't know if I whispered or if I was shouting, but I repeated myself many times. I could feel a hot wetness across the back of my shirt, but I ignored it. I forced myself to believe it was not a concern. "It's okay." I said. "It's okay." My legs were beginning to feel like they were aflame and my lungs must have been close to bursting. Just when I believed I could not carry on any longer I reached paved ground. "The sidewalk, this is good pal. Just a little further. You can make it." I tossed my shoulder up to gain a bit more of a grasp on my friend. As I did I heard a sickening splashing sound behind me. I didn't stop to look. I just continued moving down the sidewalk as swiftly as my body would trod on. I had no stamina left and my limbs were working mechanically, driven mostly by the little adrenaline I had remaining. I must have passed at least three people but for some reason my mind kept telling me to push on. It kept telling me that I hadn't found a single soul yet. "Sir please drop the weapons and place the body on the ground." I stopped moving. I closed my eyes and shook my head. It was a hard shake, and to any onlookers it probably looked as though I was on some kind of drug. When I reopened my eyes I saw people all around me. I saw a car with red and blue lights dancing with one another on the roof. I blinked rapidly. I opened both of my hands and heard the clanging of steel touching cement. I balled my hands into fists to reaffirm that I still had hands. My body was numb and everything seemed out of focus. I reached up and lowered Tom into my arms. "Hey buddy." I said. "Don't worry. All these people can see you. They know you need help. I told you I would get you nice and safe. I'm sorry. I never should have asked you to come for a walk with me. I just wanted it to be like the old days. Like it was before I made so many mistakes with you. I missed my best friend, but it's okay now. We're back again. Everything is back again." I rested Tom on the ground. It took me a moment to realize I was on my knees. I felt hands pulling something from my pocket. I heard the familiar clink of steel on cement yet again. I watched as the ground rose up to meet my face, like a cold, hard and welcoming pillow.

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